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convince the defenders that the attack would not take place that day. It was the reason why the ramps and ladders had been so secretly prepared and so carefully hidden. Doubtless, there would be sentries who would cry a warning as soon as the ramps were thrown over the drained moat, but, if most of the men on day duty were at breakfast, it would take them a few minutes, at least, to come to their positions. |
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The slow pace and leisurely start had also given time and confidence, Ian hoped, for those who had stood guard all night to go to bed. Full half the men had been on night duty. Ian had left instructions that all the serving men, dressed in the men-at-arms's armor, should be up and stirring, forming groups in a purposeful way from time to time, as if a night assault was being planned. It would take those men even longer to reach the walls. Whether or not they slept in their armor, some time must be lost shaking sleep from one's eyes, grabbing up weapons, and coming from the sleeping places. Ian looked around the camp and toward the castle walls. So far so good. His men were milling about in seemingly occupied groups, a few parties wandering toward the moat. No alarm had yet been sounded. |
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Ian walked slowly toward the nearest party of men while he watched the groups approaching the moat. Some, of course, he could not see because they were around the curve of the wall, but those he could see were only a few paces farther from or nearer their goal than the others. He had reached his own party by then, and he could feel himself tensing, could hear Owain and Geoffrey just behind him breathing harder and faster. Almost simultaneously, two men in each of the parties bent down. |
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"Ready," Ian warned softly. |
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As he spoke, he could see the men-at-arms in each group all turn toward the castle. The men who had bent suddenly flung the brush off the ramps and lifted. Then everything happened at once. Alarms rang out all along |
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